


Keep Your Eyes Open

by Magniovox



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Eye Sex, F/M, First Kiss, Go Easy On Me, LOTS OF FUCKING GAZE HOLDING, M/M, My First Fanfic, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oh My God, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pheels, Protective Steve, Terrorism, Tony Does What He Wants, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, awkward eye sex, the original characters are literally just baddies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magniovox/pseuds/Magniovox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark believed that he could redeem himself by being good (i.e being a hero, clean energy) after finding out that terrorists had gotten their hands on his weaponry. But when HYDRA gets their hands on Starktech, Tony has a hard time on seeing that he really can make a change for the better. Steve is standing right next to him throughout everything, being the good friend and captain he is. And when it seems your world is falling apart again, you start to fall for the one who opened your eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on this website!!! Omg, thank you for reading this, comments are welcomed! I would love to read what you guys think and oh boi oh boi let's see where this fic takes us? Oh god, go ahead and read this. Please do not leave hate!

He opened his eyes to wind in his ear and a pounding in his head.

“Hunh…, shit fucking ow. Wait-what!” Tony quickly, yet nearly dodged a piece of flaming debris. Oh yes, we forgot. Tony is currently freefalling from an unknown height to the Pacific Ocean.

“Jarvis?!” No answer. The suit’s power was currently dead as Tony fell this seemingly perpetual fall to the icy depths of the ocean below him. Uh, not a good sign? It couldn’t be frosting, Tony had fixed this altitude fiasco months ago! He flailed his limbs in a futile attempt to get his armor-clad body under some sort of control, but this only resulted in him somersaulting head over heels for another 400 yards. He plummeted through the night sky, fire surrounding him at almost every angle. It was like a wickedly beautiful firecracker display, bright and thunderous, yet destructive and harmful as small chunks of metal slammed into him. Another piece hit Tony’s back, thrusting him downwards faster.

“Jarvis buddy ol’ pal, I sure as hell could use some help right now.” Tony grunted as his cold destination seemed to proliferate, only getting closer by the second. The genius managed to maneuver his back to the ocean, his vision consumed by flames and flying metal pieces, remains of the HYDRA jet he was previously pursuing. A part of the right wing flew past his head as the explosion seemed to get farther and farther away.

“JARVIS!” Tony yelled before he braced himself and hit the ocean’s surface a sickening thud, it appearing as if he was in fact not hitting water, but a wall. For a wall is what Stark felt, water being blissfully merciful compared to the crippling slap of the Pacific. The water filled Tony’s vision, ears, and slowed his movements until he couldn’t even struggle without further injuring himself. His gaze fixated on the bubbles rising out from under him and the light that danced on the water above him. He reached out a gloved hand, his grasp filled with nothing but the sea. With the darkness swallowing him he simply began to close his eyes, accepting a fate he has done so many times before.

He didn’t open his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark’s eyes opened to the flash of cameras and screaming of the reporters.

He put a false smile on his face, holding a hand up to deter the press from continuing their loud roar. They began to sit, quieting down until there was only a soft murmur and shuffling as he drew in a breath.

“I refuse to answer that question on the grounds of I don’t want to.” He blatantly voiced, the media scribbling everything down sedulously with nods of their heads and soft laughter. A young man dressed in a smart grey suit and a mint green tie raised his hand, almost in question of himself, uncertainty showing on his features.  Tony recognized his question, nodding his head at the boy in the third row.

“Mr. Stark…, if I may, you earlier stated that S.H.I.E.L.D said that The Avengers is something to be invested in. But it seems the question remains, are you invested in this project? You are a rogue, someone who, quote on quote ‘doesn’t play well with others’.”

Tony ruminates on this thought for a minute before clearing his throat. “Well, the little superhero boy band is not something I thought I would see myself in a year prior. But it’s worth a shot right?” Tony lets his gaze fall on a blonde in the front row, “We’re playing a game, and the other team is hitting us hard. But winners like us don’t complain and call time out when the other team plays the game. HYRDA is out there, there’s no doubt on that much. And the States…,” he takes a breath. “The world is a pretty shitty place, there needs to be some sort of ref to make sure people don’t get hurt.”

The press erupts and Tony leans into his microphone a little more, reporters coming to attention as Tony speaks, “But am I invested in this? I think we all know I’m emotionally vested in myself.” There’s a bit of laughter. “Tony Stark likes to be at the top, he likes to be in the know. I’m a futurist, and this Avengers thing going on…, the future needs this.”

He takes a step back and gives a nod, indicating he’s done with this press conference. The reporters begin to shout questions again, but Tony just walks out of the room. He brings his sunglasses down from his head to his face.  Pepper joins his side as soon as he moves from the podium and down from the stage.

“That wasn’t too bad Stark.” She says, picking a piece of lint off from his suit jacket. “Should we go back to the tower now?”

Tony pushes the glass doors open from the building, more questions and flashes of cameras being thrown into his face. He doesn’t even bother to smile, he just makes his way towards the Rolls Royce. Happy already has the back door open for him and Pepper.

“Yeah might as well, but let’s get some food.”

“To go or dine in?”

Tony hums, “We should indulge ourselves, dine in?”

Pepper shook her head, tapping on the tablet nestled in the crook of her elbow. “Scratch that, it’s going to be take out. Fury has issued a short notice conference with our one and only you.” She slides into the Rolls.

“Short notice is right, I did the media check! What does mom want with me this time? I thought I did pretty good actually.” Tony turns around and gives a salute to the crowd. He jumps in after Pepper and Happy gently closes the door behind him. The driver rounds the car and enters the driver’s seat, buckling his seatbelt.

“Take us straight to the tower Happy.” He turns to Pepper, “We’ll have the food sent to the tower. Thor is in town tonight, Cap and Clint will probably want some too. Yeah, we at least need a truck full of food sent. Take a note Pep:”

She sighs and readies her tablet. “Yes Tony?”

“Seafood. Don’t care and won’t care where from as long as there is no snow crab. Right? Absolutely no snow crab. Natasha will have my neck if we do.”

Pepper gives him a look.

“It’s a long story involving a classic Stark-Barton prank gone wrong.” He huffed as he gingerly touched his throat. “No matter how much she kicks our asses we keep coming back for more.”

“Like a succubus?” she asks.

“Like a motherfucking succubus.”

He watched New York pass him slowly, the traffic mild today for The Big Apple. He allows his gaze to fall on Pepper, and then closes his eyes from behind his shades. Whatever he and Fury had to discuss, Tony was sure it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.

\-------

“Good job at the press conference.”

Tony lifted his head from the glass table his head was resting on. “Wait, what?”

Fury trained his eye on Tony, “Not saying it again Stark. Your performance at the media check was exceptional.”

Tony slowly nodded his head, eyebrow quirked. “Yeah so what’s new? I always do exceptional work.” He paused and rested his head in his hand, smirk already forming. “You’re just half-blind so you only see me do the work part. You’re always missing my talent, how ‘exceptional’ I do things!”

“Right. I’m going to ignore half the bull that came out of your mouth due to the shit that always follows. The only reason you really did good this time Stark is because you publically said your favor is in the team. And you plan on being here in the future.” Fury turned his back to Tony, “What they see is not only you promising protection later, but you’re swearing to them that you, Tony Stark, a powerful icon, has faith in this initiative.”

Tony tapped his temple, “Uh, genius remember?”

Fury looked over his shoulder, “Whatever, just make sure you publically keep up this whole ‘faith in heroes’ thing because it just might be what we need.”

Tony got up from his seat, “Please tell me I’m done with publicity control for the next three weeks at least.”

“No.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Tony said with a sigh. He made his way out of Fury’s office and strolled down the almost too clean S.H.I.E.L.D hallway. His sunglasses glinted under the fluorescent lights, and it began to give him a headache. It was just too white and professional for him; he missed his workshop with its oil and smoky smell. He turned a corner when his Starkphone buzzed in his pocket. He simply unlocked it with a flick of his thumb and squinted at the name on the screen. Barton.

_Meet me in the morgue_

The first thoughts Tony got were:

  1. We got a morgue?
  2. Of course S.H.I.E.L.D has a morgue.
  3. Why is Hawkass in the morgue?



_ok??? morgues are kinda creepy though why the fuck am I meeting you there?_ Tony typed up as he spun on his heel and turned the other direction.

_Can’t see how they’re 2spooky everything in there is fuckin dead_

_did you even read what you just sent to me?_

_Ball up Stark you can only die once so there’s no use being scared shitless of everything because even if it does somehow kill you it can only kill you once. there’s just a bunch of bodies down here you need to look at something_

Tony guessed that settled that matter. Even if Clint's logic was completely insane. He walked to the elevator, passing a few agents on his way. He punched the down button on the panel and waited for the lift to come to his floor.

_fine._

The elevator dinged and Tony stepped in, to yes, meet Clint in the morgue.

\-------

Clint was leaning up against the double doors of the morgue when Tony walked up to him.

“Okay Hawkass what’s that certain something you wanted to show me three floors below the lobby of this squeaky clean facility?”

Clint smirked, “Well…,”

“Oh god it better not be your dick.”

Barton laughed, “You only wish you were that lucky!” he turned and swiped his S.H.I.E.L.D card to be allowed access into the morgue. The doors opened to reveal labcoats scrambling left and right while holding clipboards. There seemed to be a constant buzz in the brightly lit room.

“What’s up with the chaos in here?” Tony glanced around, “I mean a science-y work environment chaos that is.”

“You remember when Fury sent me and Tasha out to New Mexico because there were random radiation signals coming from a constant focused area?” Tony nodded slowly. “Well, one of the field agents sent there received over 56.7 mSv and was taken off duty due to the fact that he died.” Clint began to walk through the morgue, pointing to various mutated bodies.

“See, the area is killing our guys. My guys I guess. We can’t even get close enough to the area to see what the fuck is responsible, there’s some sort of tech jammer thing that’s completely throwing off all our signals.”

Tony looked at the face of a woman, her brown hair almost all gone. She had blotches on her skin and blisters surrounding her eyes. Her skin was a sickly yellow, almost green in some places and she smelled horrid, like burnt flesh and hair.

Tony backed away from her slightly. “But Stark Industries built a machine that could cancel out any sort of interference with S.H.I.E.L.D waves? How could any other marketer outsmart…me?”

“Because Stark, you’re kinda outsmarting yourself.”

Tony looked up and narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean?”

Clint covered the woman’s face with the white blanket covering her body. With a shrug he said, “It’s Starktech that’s countering our countermeasures. Same wavelength and everything.” Tony froze. “Someone’s got your tech Tony, it might not be missiles and WOMDs but this shit can do just as much damage. We can’t get into the area that the radiation is coming from, and we can’t send in any vehicles or jets because we lose connection with them immediately.”

Tony stumbled backwards, “No.” Clint reached out for him, “Tony it’s okay, we just need you to help us find out what’s happening.”

“Fuck Clint…I have to…go. Right fucking now.” Tony turned on his heel and ran out of the morgue.

“Tony! Shi- Wait!”

Fuck. Not again. No matter how hard Tony tries to do good, no matter what he does it always comes back to bite him in the ass. He’s so sick of terrorists and fucking warlords taking his tech, they hurt innocent people and ruin his name. He tried, Tony swears he tried. He did good, he was good. Quit weaponry and began clean energy, he joined The Avengers. What else do they want from him?

Tony sprinted out down a hallway, his expensive loafers sliding on the tile. With his breath heavy he pounded on the elevators up button, which told him the lift was on the 5 floor. He needed out right now, so he swung around a searched for the stairwell. To his left was the door, and he ran through the door and up the stairs.

He took the steps two at time until he reached the floor above him. He stopped and closed his eyes. Tony put his hand against the wall for support, but he still couldn’t breathe. Leaning his back into the wall, the genius slides down until he is seated on the cold tile. Tony shivers from uneasiness. The chill is probably not only from the clean, cold floors, but from the guilt building in his gut. He quickly wiped his face with a sleeve, totally not crying.

“Godammit…”

He closed his eyes to a headache and the taste of failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't too bad, ^^' yeah, I can understand it might be a tad bit boring but I'm trying! I think the end was a bit rushed, but that'll do Mag, that'll do. Also thank you for reading this, it means a lot that there are some people out there willing to read my material. oh boi oh boi just thanks!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky swears are cute I think. Grown men too, wow.
> 
> also i talk to myself when i do stuff to steeb. it's adorbs no one is judging you

Steve really, really liked his workouts. He was able to clear his mind of all the bad memories with swift punches to the Stark engineered punching bags. The cleanliness of the S.H.I.E.L.D gym didn’t quite replace the soft spot in Steve’s heart for an ‘old-school’ musty smelling and well used gym. Left punch, right punch, left hook, uppercut. He repeated his sequence until the punching bag’s hit reader reached three hundred. Steve sat down on a chrome bench and unwrapped his knuckles from the tape, worn more out of habit than actual functionality.

“Well look at that,” the Captain remarked at his red knuckles. He flexed his hand and then shook it out, ready to hit the weights after the essential warm up. He grabbed his bag to drag along with him to the other side of the gym while he worked, now in habit of keeping his possessions near. Last time some agent stole his sweatband, he later found her sniffing it at her desk. Not only is it slightly disturbing to see that, Rogers quite liked that sweatband. Tony got it for him from some outdated supply store ironically called Roger’s Sporting Goods. The reason it was his favorite was most definitely because of the humor behind it, not because Tony had got it for him. He assured himself of that over and over.

He sat his bag on the floor next to the bench press, stacking weights on the pole until it reached eighty on each side. He sat on the bench, stripping off his sweatpants in favor of the shorts under them.

“Alrighty here’s Steven Rogers weighing in at a whopping 253 pounds. He’s lifting 160 million bajillion pounds; the crowd is impressed…,” he waves to his unseen fans in the stands, exhaling his breath slightly to fill his ears with the imaginary excited roar of the crowd. “Can he do it? Will he be able to make history?” Steve leans back and stares at the bar above his head. He grasps it with his hands, flexing his fingers on the metal rod trying to test the most strain it can take. He was so not talking to himself.

He gets ready to lift it when his cell rings. Steve groans and sits up, digging around in his small duffle bag to find his phone. He brings it up to his ear with a “Hello?”, but when it keeps ringing he pulls it away from his face. With his mouth making a slight ‘o’ he uses the first finger on his other hand to gingerly unlock the piece of glass called a Starkphone.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Stark needs help.” The voice said.

The Captain bolted up from where he was seated, already walking towards the door of the gym. “Who is this? Clint? Clint, what’s wrong with Tony?” Steve said keeping his voice calm even though when he said Tony’s name it cracked a bit.

 “Okay so I told him terrorists, and I’m pretty sure HYRDA, has got their hands on his merchandise. He ran out and now I can’t find him. He’s not exactly…emotionally stable right now.” Clint answered.

“Where are you?” Steve asked as he pushed through the glass doors of the gym and headed towards the elevator.

“Morgue, but he should be well off the floor by now though.”

Steve slapped the down button on the elevator, he was on the 5th floor but the lift was slowly creeping up from the floor below and he grew impatient, taking the stairs instead.

He jumped them five at a time, holding onto the railing with one hand and other tightly grasping his phone. He cleared the floors fast, making it down to the 3rd floor by the time the elevator had made it to the 5th he guessed. The blonde turned the corner again, almost passing a huddled figure against the wall. He glanced back, and by the soft, wavy hair on the head of the bowed head, he knew it was Tony.

“Tony?” he said after a few breaths.

Stark moved his head to look at Steve, but he did not answer. He hid his head in his arms, with a groan that kinda sounded like a child’s ‘go away’ groan. Steve closed the distance between them and crouched in front of Tony, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Tony what’s wrong?” he asked, “Clint said you were not feeling…well.”

“That wouldn’t be the first thing he’s said that hasn’t shocked me.” The billionaire muttered.

Rogers sighed, and shook Tony slightly, “Look I don’t exactly know what’s wrong or what’s up, but you’re in distress and that’s enough for me to stay by your side until the problem is solved.” He resolved, looking at Tony’s head.

Tony looked up and gave a weak smile, “It’s that American can-do attitude that is going to be the downfall of me someday. I gave up long ago Rogers.”

“Didn’t you say something about not giving up when the other team plays the game?” Steve said softly, “Don’t give up on me now Tony. I can’t tell you everything’s going to be alright, but we can be damn sure that’ll we’ll try to overcome this.”

The philanthropist held Steve’s strong gaze before allowing his lips quirk slightly in what could only be described as a ghost of a smile. “I know you’re serious when you say that d-word.”

“I did serve in the army Tony.” Steve joked with a soft chuckle.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re a goody two shoes golden boy.” Tony laughed. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes again, this time at more peace than he was before. Nothing really has changed his current feelings on the whole situation, but at least he had a friend. At least Steve doesn’t hate him for his hand in a terrorist function. It won’t be too long until the media turns the world against him with false words and hurtful jabs. This realization caused Tony to release a shaky sigh.

Steve shifted slightly so he was sitting against the wall next to Tony. There wasn’t anything said, but it didn’t change the fact that there was a sort of resolution in the air. It was a feeling that suggested that they could get  
through this. Somehow.

“I promise I’ll do my best to help you.”

“You don’t even know how I fucked up.” Tony whispered.

“Does it honestly matter?” Steve looked up from his shoes to Tony’s face. Strong resolve could be found in his blue eyes, a fiery passion that the Captain held for his teammates.

“Okay whatever you say.”

Steve studied Tony before holding out his pinky in front of him, not saying anything, just looking at Tony.

“What are you doing Rogers?” Stark asked.

“Making a promise.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow and scoffed, “We are not children my dear confused Captain.”

“Well you certainly are acting like one Stark,” Steve started, “You have a chance to change this. You have a chance to fix whatever mistake was made, on your behalf or not. Some of my closest friends didn’t have that opportunity. So you, Tony Stark, are going to pinky swear that you will put forth the effort for yourself that I’m putting forth for you.” He finished.

Tony opened his mouth to object, but he closed it instead. Holding out his hand he locks his pinky with Steve’s holding his gaze and then clearing his throat to speak.

“You’re on Rogers. I’m gonna thank the bastards who got my tech with my fuckin’ fist, and then clear my name.” he said.

“That’s the spirit.”

He closed his eyes to a promise and a friend by his side.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is being written as i go along and is being made purely for fun. i think more romantic things will arrive soon in later chapters, and possible sexy times and fighting in the near future too. it all really just depends if i think people are interested. anyway, feedback is welcomed! hell, it's wanted! :> comments make me happy

 

Deep brown eyes opened to the sound of Jarvis’ voice.

“Captain Rogers is entering sir.”

Tony lifted his head off of the worktable and wiped his face with his hands. With a groan he instructed Jarvis to turn down Black Sabbath’s Paranoid, which was blaring all throughout the workshop. Steve wondered how Tony could even contemplate about sleeping with the music so loud but he just assumed since he was used to it, the inventor probably didn’t notice anymore. Probably just the equivalent of white noise.

“Rrrng-Steee-ng.” Tony set his forehead back down onto the cool table, papers and screens surrounding him. When had he fallen asleep? What day is it again?

“I see you’re still hard at work down here.”

Tony mumbled into the table’s surface, “Well I kinda need to find the douchesuckers who got their dirty douchesucking douchesucker douchey hands on my tech.”

Oh my.

“Is that even a word?” Steve stifled a slight chuckle.

“Absolutely.”

The super solider pulled up a stray rolling chair next to Tony, “Here I brought this for you. I guessed you probably really weren’t going to come upstairs for an actual meal so I made you a grilled cheese.”

Tony took the bag, eyebrows raised, “I expected you to bring me some healthy carbohydrate filled something, I’ll actually eat this. Thanks.” He looked inside.

“There are carbohydrates in there Tony, also an apple, some Mentos and bottled water.”

“Boo-hoo, boring.”

“Mentos are not boring. I really like them.” He insisted earnestly with a shy smile. “Guess what else I got for you.”

 There were a lot of things Tony could have said, a lot of paths he could’ve taken with that statement. “You didn’t bring me anymore goddamn coffee.”

Nailed it.

“There’s a coffeemaker right over there.”

“Oh… yeah?”

Steve laughed and the sound sent an unfamiliar feeling straight into Tony’s stomach. Felt sort of like when he was in the suit flying high above the city. C’mon Tony get your head on straight, this is American Boy Scout Steve Rogers, quit becoming interested in whatever you’re becoming interested in. This interest you have is not a good one.

“Like I was saying,” Rogers cleared his throat, voice becoming more serious. “I think we may have identified a person who we think knows a little something about the supply chain of Stark Technology getting into the wrong hands.”

Tony tilted his head to the side, “Small fry?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D thinks so, but who knows.”

Tony flicked some of the screens in front of him away, sweeping some papers to the side as a projected keyboard took their place. He looked to Steve as he asked, “What’s the name Rogers?”

“Victoria Collier.”

Tony typed the name and multiple pictures and addresses came into view.  “Well gee, that helps.” He muttered.

“Try…, Viryn Collier”

Three faces pulled up in front of them. There was a woman with short blonde hair, a woman slightly tanner with long black hair and green eyes, and one with brown hair that didn’t really stick out.

“The blonde one looks like Miley Cyrus.”

“Tony focus.”

He turned his attention back to the screen and settled back into his chair. He studied the three women, eyes tracing their soft jawlines, and arched eyebrows. He wondered exactly what or who he was looking for, he didn’t really see anything that stuck out other than the fact that they all shared some similarities. He tilted his head to the right to see if the change of view would help at all. His brown hair shifted on his head falling a little into Steve’s view. It made Steve realize how close he was sitting to the genius. He shifted slightly in his chair, eyes traveled down Tony’s strong jawline, to _his_ eyebrows.

“Mmmm,” Tony rumbled from deep within his chest, his brain working as he began to pull the pictures directly in front of him. “Steve what do you think?” he said in a low voice, deep in thought.

Tony’s tone sparked a hot sensation in Steve’s chest, his mouth suddenly dry. “I think that they all look pretty much the same?”

“Right. They do…” he restated like Steve didn’t just point out the obvious. “Well not the same, but the same structure. Jarvis, overlap the pictures of this Viryn girl.”

“As you wish sir.” Jarvis answered, and the pictures overlapped themselves.

The women’s faces all became one, they about matched up perfectly, aside from the eyes and different hair styles.

“Some wigs, and contacts, maybe a little sun and this Viryn becomes three different ones.”

“Why not change her name too though?”

Tony turned towards Steve, “Viryn is probably not even her real name, she seems like she knows what she’s doing, but she’s probably a rookie.”

“Small fry.” Steve concluded.

“Right. She’s still new to the two-timing business.”

Tony saved her last known locations that her credit card popped up, “Fuckin’ rookie if she doesn’t use cash to pay.” He muttered. “Oh, and also thanks for the sandwich and info Steve I appreciate it.” He looked up at Steve’s face and offered a soft smile.

“Always a pleasure to help a friend.” He made eye contact with Tony and grinned in return. “I told you I’ll be here for you.”

“I didn’t forget old man.”

Steve rose up out of his chair, “I’m going to go upstairs, care to come with?”

“No I’m gonna just stick around down here a little longer. Tell Clint to stay off my floor, I know he’s always in the goddamn vents in there.”

Steve chuckled, “Right.”

The Captain ascended up to the common room of the tower and Tony leaned against the table with a sigh.

His eyes closed with another sigh and a feeling longing for the broad shouldered blonde. _Ridiculous._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
